


Rock My World

by firbolg_boyfriends



Series: Ring Me Up [2]
Category: Dimension 20 (Web Series), Dimension 20: Fantasy High
Genre: (and how to ask each other to the dance), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ayda makes a cameo, Background Relationships, Canon-Typical Sexual References, Established Relationship, Flirting, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Prom, just a couple of dorks who are dorkily figuring out how to tell each other how they feel, with no danger this time! just fun times and great 'fits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-25
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:41:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22900387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firbolg_boyfriends/pseuds/firbolg_boyfriends
Summary: Fabian gasped. “Oh my god, I haven’t even THOUGHT about how I’m gonna ask The Ball to Prom!”“Who’s The Ball?” Ragh whispered to Gorgug (but Fabian could totally hear it because they were all crowded around one mirror and Ragh was also bad at whispering).“That’s what he calls his boyfriend,” Gorgug whispered back (equally badly). “I think it’s, like, a weird sex thing.”“It is NOT a weird sex thing,” Fabian snapped, “and can you two focus up? I need you to help me figure out how to ask my boyfriend to Prom.” He couldn’t believe the thought hadn’t even crossed his mind before now. Riz had totally been hinting at it earlier, too - Fabian just hadn’t noticed because he’d been too busy waiting for a suitable moment to kiss him. It was Riz’s fault, really, for having a face and personality that made Fabian unable to think about anything besides kissing him whenever he was around. And whenever he wasn’t around. Basically all the time.
Relationships: Riz Gukgak/Fabian Aramais Seacaster
Series: Ring Me Up [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1609975
Comments: 42
Kudos: 308





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ahaha I'm back! This is the sequel to one of my other d20 fics, Build Me Up Buttercup. You probably don't have to read it to understand and enjoy this one, though. Although if you like this one, you'd most likely feel similarly about that one :)
> 
> I also already established that season 2 did not happen in this universe, but I love aydafig, so Ayda will make an appearance, and just... don't overthink it lmao
> 
> The title is from Don't Delete the Kisses by Wolf Alice, which, fun fact - I only discovered that song because one of my favorite artists (@/rabdoidal on tumblr and instagram) made a post about how it was a fabriz song, which I found to be accurate <3

It was early May of junior year at Aguefort Adventuring Academy, and the school year was rounding to a close but the misty fragrance of a rainy spring hadn’t quite given way to summer. The lilacs and hyacinths still bloomed violet against the riotous green maples and ferns lining the paths behind the campus, and the silhouettes of evergreen trees still paled with fog early in the morning. In the afternoon, though, sunlight as pure and clean as fresh water poured through the windows of the Solesian history classroom, hinting at the cloudless blue sky and warm greenery outside.

Fabian’s seat creaked as he leaned back expansively, feet in his enormous bloodrush sneakers splayed beneath the desk in front of him, lacing his knuckles behind his head. Today was a gorgeous day. Maybe he would do fantasy yoga on the terrace when he got home.

A tiny finger poked the back of his neck. “I can’t see the board when you sit like that.”

Fabian twisted around in his chair to glare acrimoniously. “Do you MIND?”

Behind him, Riz sat half-illuminated in a patch of sunlight, vest freshly ironed but already sporting a faint coffee stain on the hem, unruly dark green hair curling over his pointed ears, looking just as mind-bogglingly attractive as ever. His lips twitched as he tried to mirror Fabian’s grumpy expression. “I just think that –”

Fabian didn’t get to hear the rest of what Riz thought, because their teacher, a perpetually sleepy rock gnome, droned, “Boys… how many times do I have to remind you that… sitting by each other is a… privilege…”

The students around them snickered. Riz nodded politely, mumbling something about how he understood, but Fabian harrumphed and folded his arms because he was really cool and also a badass. He hoped Riz was impressed by his coolness and badassery.

Surreptitiously he peeked back around to see if Riz seemed impressed. Riz saw him peeking. He smirked at the eye contact – just a little secretive smirk. The sunshine from the nearby window made his complexion glow emerald and highlighted the dimple in his right cheek. Fabian’s stomach did about eight somersaults.

That happened a lot these days (the somersaulting). The reason was mostly because Riz was very, very, very cute. Like, truly criminal levels of cuteness. Especially when he wore bow ties (like today). Fabian looked away because it embarrassed him to stare. But then he looked back around anyway because… he really wanted to, and the desire outweighed the risk of embarrassment.

Riz grinned and leaned forward on his forearms, probably assuming that Fabian wanted to tell him something. “What?” he whispered excitedly.

Fabian glanced down, toying with the peeling laminate on Riz’s desk. He felt shy. He wondered if speaking his mind would ever get less humiliating. Maybe everything in his mind was just fundamentally humiliating.

“Nothing, I was… staring at you.”

A small hand tipped Fabian’s chin up so that he could see Riz’s green-gold eyes. “Yeah? Why?”

“You know exactly why, The Ball,” Fabian mumbled. He couldn’t decide if he wanted to keep gazing at Riz or turn around and focus on the class. Both felt equally impossible.

Riz grinned bigger. “No, actually, can you tell me?”

“Boys…”

They both jumped. Their teacher looked very, very tired.

They hadn’t been in any classes together earlier that year, but after the semester break Riz had transferred into Fabian’s history class so they could ‘spend more time together.’ But then he transferred back out the next day after Fabian made fun of him for ‘being a stalker’. And then Fabian, minutes later, transferred into Riz’s original history class because he really did want to spend an extra hour together five days a week, which had mostly been worth it, but Riz’s teacher didn’t particularly like or trust Fabian because he felt that he ‘distracted Riz’. Which Fabian thought was very unfair of him because Fabian couldn’t help having naturally grown up to be unbelievably sexy and handsome.

Fabian tried to listen to the history lecture, but it was so difficult when the birds were chirping outside and there was a beautiful guy sitting behind him and the afternoon felt full of promise. Presently, Riz’s hand tapped on his shoulder and tossed a folded piece of notebook paper into his lap. Glancing around to make sure the teacher wasn’t paying attention, Fabian held it under his desk and unfolded it.

He felt a surge of gratitude that he’d taken time over the last month to really memorize the numeric cipher that Riz used to encrypt all their written messages to each other. Back in December when Riz first invented it, Fabian had mostly pretended to understand it and tried to pick up on the meaning of Riz’s texts from context, but eventually his luck ran out and Riz figured out the ruse because their crystal-messaging conversations stopped making even a marginal degree of sense.

(Later he’d gone back and translated all of Riz’s original messages, which turned out to be a good idea because most of them were very sweet and made him want to absolutely, just… bury his face in his pillow.)

(There were a few that were less sweet, like ‘I’m going to Fantasy Whole Foods to get special snacks for you because you’re too high-maintenance to eat store-brand chips like a regular person’ and ‘Sometimes I’m not sure that you actually know how to read this code because your answers get weird even for you’ but he chose to skim past those.)

This note read: ‘Will you go out with me?’ His face heated up and he hunched forward so Riz wouldn’t be able to tell.

Smoothing the paper over his thigh, he wrote back, ‘I’m already going out with you. Dumbass.’ and held it at waist level until he felt Riz snatch it out of his hand.

A minute later, another folded paper dropped onto his knees from somewhere over his shoulder.

‘No, I meant like today after school. Also you still keep forgetting to put vowels in your words. Vowels are encoded as archaic dwarven futhark with the horizontal and diagonal lines mirrored and the vertical lines rotated ninety degrees. It’s not that hard to learn.’

Fabian resisted the urge to crane his neck around and glare at Riz again. ‘Stop making fun of me, I am your boyfriend,’ he wrote furiously (and hopefully somewhat coherently).

When Fabian unfolded Riz’s response, it read (in Common): ‘Stp mkng fn f m, m yr byfrnd’ next to a minuscule and frankly offensive doodle of Fabian.

Fabian sketched an image of a hand with the middle finger extended and passed it back. He heard Riz giggling behind him and he couldn’t help but smile despite himself.

There was a thump as a small foot kicked the underside of his seat. He slouched in his seat until he knew the back of his head was fully in Riz’s personal space. “You know, I was gonna go out with you, but I changed my mind because you kicked me,” he stage-whispered.

“I didn’t kick you, I kicked your chair, and it was only because you were being rude first,” Riz hissed, snapping the band of Fabian’s eyepatch.

Fabian arched his neck backwards until he could see Riz’s face upside-down. “I’m sorry, baby,” he pouted theatrically. “Will you have mercy and go out with me?”

Riz scoffed, but he still looked pleased. “I asked you first!”

“Is that a no?”

“Obviously not.”

“Okay, glad that’s settled.”

“You can be such a pain in the ass sometimes,” Riz said, affectionately twisting a lock of Fabian’s hair.

Fabian grinned. “If you want, I can be a pain in YOUR ass –”

Riz interrupted him with a light whack upside the head. “You know, I guess I walked into that one –”

“BOYS.”

They both hurriedly sat back properly in their seats. Fabian gave up on being a badass; he didn’t want to get detention today because he had a date after school.

&

Fabian drove them to a rocky overlook just off a bend in the road that wound through the hilly woods west of Elmville. Sometime in March they’d discovered that it made for an excellent romantic sunset-viewing spot. It wasn’t sunset right now – not even close, in fact. It was even a little too windy up here to be truly pleasant.

Riz didn’t care one iota. He’d gotten to sit on the back of his boyfriend’s motorcycle and snugly hug him from behind like a koala bear and (kind of) feel his abs through his letterman jacket, and he was also, apparently, experiencing some kind of miracle-life where he fairly frequently got to sit on the back of his boyfriend’s motorcycle and snugly hug him from behind like a koala bear and (kind of) feel his abs through his letterman jacket. Every day was a good day.

Well, but – there was one thing that had sort of been on his mind lately. Just a bit. Mostly since his mom had flipped the wall calendar in the kitchen to May.

“Uh, sooo…” he began as Fabian clambered off the Hangman and then reached around to pick Riz up and set him on the ground. Riz did not even remotely need help getting off the Hangman, but Fabian clearly very much enjoyed bodily moving Riz from Point A to Point B, and carrying him around as if he needed to be rescued from mud puddles, and lifting him off of and onto horizontal surfaces, and manhandling him up against vertical ones, and… well, anyway. Riz wasn’t about to start complaining about any of that.

“Sooo what?” Fabian said, grinning and taking Riz’s hand. That was another thing – Fabian wanted to hold hands pretty much always, even if they were both in the kitchen of his mansion getting sliced avocado out of the fridge. Riz sometimes wondered if he was pathologically worried about wandering off and getting lost. But again… he wasn’t about to start complaining about it.

Riz led them over to a shady area out of the direct sunlight. Vine maples and fir trees had created a sort of vegetative overhang above a particular rock, and the grass and wild daisies were overgrown but just enough to make a perfect place to sit and lean against the mossy stone façade.

“So it’s May,” Riz said. Fabian sat down. As he followed him, Riz took a moment to admire the way he looked in the dappled forest light, and the way his hair had gotten tousled by the wind on the ride up but it just made him appear more rakishly sexy. He wrapped an arm around Riz, who snuggled into his shoulder. Riz’s life was just… unbelievable sometimes.

From this hillside, framed by treetops, they could see a panoramic view of all of Elmville – Strongtower Luxury Apartments, the Thistlespring tree, Basrar’s, Seacaster Manor, the Black Pit, the charred remains of what had once been Kristen’s favorite magical vegan donut shop (extremely long story), and of course, Aguefort and the bloodrush field.

“Who cares about May?” Fabian asked. Riz opened his mouth but then Fabian continued. “Oh my god, is it our anniversary? Is our anniversary in May, somehow? Babe, I’m so sorry I forgot our anniversary –”

“No, our anniversary is in September, you dolt,” Riz replied, fondly patting his thigh. And then he just left his hand there, because… it was a pretty nice thigh. “I just meant… Like, I mean… Do you think there’s anything special about May?” Please don’t make me be the one to bring it up, he mentally begged (also making sure he wasn’t accidentally using the message cantrip).

Fabian absently rubbed a hand up and down Riz’s tricep, seemingly lost in thought. “Well… it’s almost summer. Cathilda has started replacing my winter wardrobe with my summer colors. It’s nearly garden party season.”

Riz rolled his eyes, feeling glad that Fabian couldn’t directly see his face. “Are you going on the pirate ship thing again this summer?” he asked, feigning indifference (probably not very well).

Fabian hummed. “I don’t know, do you want me to?”

Riz sat up slightly so he could arch an eyebrow at him. “Do you want me to want you to?”

Fabian stared at him. Riz stared back, trying not to smile.

This sort of standoff had been a common occurrence over the last several months. Internally, Fabian had a lot of breathtakingly romantic things to say (made even more romantic by their sheer earnestness and absence of affectation) and Riz knew that, but Fabian hadn’t totally gotten over the mental block about the inherent embarrassment of revealing his true feelings – specifically, of removing his armor by admitting openly that he cared deeply about another person and would be affected significantly by their reaction to this admission. Even if that person was his goddamn boyfriend, and their reaction was pretty much guaranteed to be positive.

And so they played this game: Riz noticed how Fabian felt, and gently probed him until the truth came out. Bits and pieces of the truth, at least. But even the bits and pieces invariably left him melting.

Fabian tossed his head and sighed like a damsel in distress. “I don’t want to go this summer, okay? I don’t want to be away from you for that long! But I was hoping you would beg me to stay, all dramatically. And maybe offer to bring me snacks every day in July.”

Riz snickered even as his heart spun like a bicycle wheel. “I mean, I’ll still beg you to stay if you want. But I’m not bringing you snacks every day – Fantasy Whole Foods is freakin’ expensive. Have you seen how much they charge for tarrasque jerky? I can get that same stuff from the elemental-fuel station for, like, one silver.”

“You shouldn’t eat tarrasque jerky from the elemental-fuel station, The Ball, you’re going to die of some horrible disease,” Fabian admonished him, glaring. “You better start begging because now you’re making me want to leave this summer after all.”

Riz smirked. “I’ll beg if you beg me to beg, first.”

Back when they first started dating, Riz would’ve done almost anything for Fabian because he was just so enamored that he couldn’t even bother hiding it. He would still do almost anything for Fabian, and he was still just… even more enamored than he’d originally been, really, but now he pretended to make Fabian work for it a bit more, because it drew him out of his bravado, and he also seemed to like it just a little when Riz told him what to do.

“You’re the most annoying boyfriend,” Fabian huffed, squeezing Riz against his side. (Riz wondered if his intestines would ever stop scattering into a cloud of iridescent-blue butterflies when Fabian said the word ‘boyfriend’, or if his brain would ever stop dissolving into warm butter when he smelled Fabian’s musky deodorant.)

“And, fine,” Fabian said, still huffing. “I want you to want me to stay, but mostly I just want to stay regardless, because I know I could call you on your crystal every day just like last summer, but when I think about the idea of going an entire day without seeing your face or getting to touch you – okay, I don’t mean that in, like, a dirty way. Well – I mean it a little bit in a dirty way. But mostly I mean like – even just, like, brushing up next to you makes me feel… happy and safe. And going one whole day without that sounds hellish, no offense to the Hangman, and the entire voyage definitely isn’t worth it.” He made a face. “Ew, gross. That was the most embarrassing shit I’ve said all week. Don’t look at me!”

Complying, Riz raised his hands to cover his eyes. And to cool down his face, because he was… melting. Bits and pieces, and all that. “It’s good that you feel that way,” he said, voice muffled from between his wrists. “Because I’ve been thinking the exact same thing. Except the gross part. I don’t think it’s gross, I think it’s cute. I think you’re cute.”

“I’m not cute, I’m hot,” Fabian retorted irritably.

Riz’s hands fell away from his face as he laughed uncontrollably. “You’re both!” he managed to say.

A smile bloomed across Fabian’s face. “Yeah? What else am I?” he prompted, voice dropping a note as he gently grasped Riz’s lowering wrists.

“You’re a menace, for one,” Riz answered, laughter still in his tone. He happily let Fabian guide him down onto his back, pinning his wrists in the grass above his head with one hand and using the other to begin unbuttoning his shirt. “So I take it you’ll be here this summer then?” he asked as Fabian kissed the tender spot below where his jawline met his ear, hoping he didn’t sound as breathless as he felt.

Fabian propped himself higher so he could look at Riz. His silver-gray eyes were almost green in this light. Riz didn’t think he would ever get used to the thrill of having Fabian loom over him like this. “I guess so. Do you think you’ll have room in your schedule to hang out with me, The Ball?”

“I can pencil you in but no guarantees – ahh,” Riz hissed as Fabian bit the side of his neck. “Asshole.” He wrapped a leg around Fabian’s waist to pull him closer. There was no purpose in trying not to sound breathless at this point.

“You’re the asshole,” Fabian murmured into his collarbone. Riz laughed and pulled one arm free to yank on a handful of Fabian’s hair, and Fabian growled something that was probably another insulting nickname and began sucking on his neck with renewed fervor.

They ended up making out until they got too hungry to keep going, and then they drove back to town and picked up shrimp tacos to-go that they ate while doing homework at Riz’s apartment. Eventually Fabian went home because he had an early-morning bloodrush practice the next day.

It was only after Riz kissed him goodbye and watched him stomp down the stairs that he realized they’d never talked about Prom, like he’d hoped they would.

Oh, well. It had to come up inevitably, right?


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finished chapter 2 fast so here ya go <3

Fabian was in the locker room, theoretically washing up after bloodrush practice, but the process was going very slowly because he was primarily involved in one of his favorite daydreams about Riz. This one featured the two of them solving a mystery together in a sort of noir film adventure setting where Riz dressed like a grizzled private eye and did things like interrogate people in a gravelly tone and tug on Fabian’s lapels to pull him into dark alleyways. It was a mostly innocent daydream, except for the part at the very end when Riz said that it was time to ‘reward’ Fabian for helping with the case and then started undoing his tie.

“Yo, Fabes, what’s takin’ you so long? I have to use the mirror, too!” Ragh yelled, voice echoing off the acoustic bathroom walls.

Fabian scowled at his reflection. Why did Ragh always have to interrupt him when he was just getting to the good part? And why was he always yelling, twenty-four/seven? They were in the same room, and neither of them were wearing shirts. Now was not the time to be shouting.

“Hurry up, Fabian, I have to look extra good today.” He pushed Fabian out of the way, accidentally knocking over his bottle of sea salt spray and tube of walnut-peach exfoliant.

Fabian carefully rearranged his beauty products, glaring at Ragh all the while. “What for?”

“I’m asking someone to Prom today!”

“Who’re you askin’?” Gorgug chimed in from out of nowhere, because apparently he was in here, too.

“The cute guy from my Elvish class! He has drama club today so I’m gonna go there right after this.”

“Do you know his name?” Fabian asked drily, because he was still in something of a pissy mood. Riz hadn’t been in history class today because he was on an A.V. Club field trip or something and so Fabian’s energy was off due to the absence of his daily dose of Boyfriend.

Ragh bit his lip with one tusk, deep in thought. “Uh….”

“You can ask him his name at Prom! That would be romantic,” Gorgug suggested, joining them at the mirror. It had already been crowded with two people, and three was really pushing it. Especially when there were about a dozen other vacant mirrors, and this was the only one where Fabian had set up his supplies.

“I think it would be more romantic if you knew his name before asking him to Prom,” Fabian said, shoving at Ragh’s bulky shoulder so that he could lean far enough towards the mirror to properly pluck his eyebrows.

“Dude, you’re so right. How are you so good at romance?” Ragh shook his head in wonder. Fabian didn’t respond because he was sticking his tongue out in concentration, tweezers in hand.

“I think I’m probably better at romance than he is. I’ve had a girlfriend for longer than he’s had a boyfriend,” mused Gorgug, shoving his hands in the pockets of his track pants.

Fabian was still plucking his left eyebrow but he managed to raise his right one in irritation. He and Riz were clearly meant for each other, and he was also definitely the most charming and swoon-worthy guy that anyone in the world including Riz had ever laid eyes on. Gorgug was just too dense to realize that.

“How are you gonna ask her to Prom this year, bro?” Ragh asked.

Gorgug shrugged. “What do you mean, how? Like, I’m just gonna ask, I guess.”

Fabian gasped and dropped his tweezers. “Oh my god, I haven’t even THOUGHT about how I’m gonna ask The Ball to Prom!”

“Who’s The Ball?” Ragh whispered to Gorgug (but Fabian could totally hear it because they were all crowded around one mirror and Ragh was also bad at whispering).

“That’s what he calls his boyfriend,” Gorgug whispered back (equally badly). “I think it’s, like, a weird sex thing.”

“It is NOT a weird sex thing,” Fabian snapped, “and can you two focus up? I need you to help me figure out how to ask my boyfriend to Prom.” He couldn’t believe the thought hadn’t even crossed his mind before now. Riz had totally been hinting at it, too, that day at the rocky overlook when he kept mentioning the fact that it was May. Fabian just hadn’t noticed because he’d been too busy waiting for a suitable moment to kiss him. It was Riz’s fault, really, for having a face and personality that made Fabian unable to think about anything besides kissing him whenever he was around. And whenever he wasn’t around. Basically all the time.

“How did you ask Zelda last year?” he prompted Gorgug.

Gorgug shrugged again. “I dunno, I just asked?”

“Are you kidding me?” Fabian sputtered. He turned to Ragh. “Are you hearing this right now?”

“What?” Ragh asked. He’d opened a container of Fabian’s coconut hair cream and looked dangerously close to sticking his finger in for a taste. Fabian snatched it out of his hand.

“Why, what would you do, Fabian?” asked Gorgug.

Fabian ran his hands through his hair in consternation. “I don’t know, something really romantic? Something incredible? Something he’ll remember forever?”

“I don’t think Zelda’s going to forget I asked her to Prom, because I’m in all her photos from last year.”

Fabian sighed heavily and turned back to Ragh, who was now unscrewing the lid of a brown sugar lip mask. “Okay, Ragh, look, I know it smells good, but it isn’t food, all right? Now, I’ll help you look good for your Elvish boy but you have to stop touching all my shit.”

“He’s not Elvish, he’s just in my Elvish class.”

“I think when it’s a person, you say that they’re Elfley,” Gorgug informed him.

Ragh frowned. “Are you sure? I thought it was Elvum when you’re describing a person.”

“Hopefully you won’t have to worry about it soon, because if you play this right you’re going to figure out what his name is and you can refer to him by his actual goddamn name,” Fabian said, spraying bamboo oil over Ragh’s hair. “Now, what’s your plan to ask him to Prom?” He didn’t have high hopes for how much wisdom he’d be able to glean from this interaction, but sometimes inspiration came from unlikely sources.

Ragh shrugged. “I don’t know, just ask, I guess? Why, should I do something different?”

Fabian sniffed haughtily. And then sneezed because he’d accidentally inhaled a whiff of peppermint skin toner. “You should at least get flowers,” he told Ragh. “That would be the romantic thing to do.”

Ragh looked worried. “Do you think he’d say no because I didn’t get flowers?”

“You should probably get some just in case,” Gorgug said, patting his shoulder in concern as Fabian dabbed moisturizer onto his green cheekbones.

“Where do I get flowers from, bro?”

“There’s a good florist downtown –” Fabian began, before Gorgug interjected.

“I have a better idea! There’s like a bunch of flowers that grow right in the ground at Aguefort. You can just pick some of those!”

“Dude, that’s such a dope idea!” Ragh yelled, raising a hand to high-five Gorgug. “Will you help me go pick some right now?”

“Yeah! I guess maybe I’ll get some for Zelda too and then I’ll just ask her today,” Gorgug said, sitting on the wooden bench to pull his hoodie over his head. He blinked up at Fabian. “You coming too, Fabian? You can get some flowers to give to Riz today!”

“The Ball deserves much better than some common… outdoor flowers,” Fabian scoffed. But he went with them anyway. It was sunny outside, after all.

&

Riz sat at his office desk reviewing notes for a case he was working, crystal tucked between his ear and shoulder because it was time for his biweekly four-way conference call with Adaine, Kristen, and Fig.

It was raining hard outside, but Riz felt nice and cozy. The daylight hadn’t faded but the indoor lights were off, so the room had that particular shadowy, atmospheric quality where it wasn’t really dark, but the only light source was the rain-splattered window and gray sky outside. He’d made himself a cup of black tea (he was trying, somewhat successfully, to wean himself off of coffee) and he was wearing the most informal outfit he owned: sweatpants that had been issued to him by his middle school for P.E. class, and one of Fabian’s Owlbears hoodies, which was practically a tunic on him.

The girls were currently in the process of hashing out who was going with whom to Prom. Well –

“I’m definitely going with Tracker, she asked me a full month ago. She gave me a sourdough starter and a Fantasy Sleater Kinney record and asked me to be the stars to her moon… isn’t that, like, so poetic?”

“Is that a weird sex thing?” Fig asked slyly.

“It’s not, she was just being sweet!” Adaine insisted. “Right, Kristen?”

“Oh, no, it’s definitely a weird sex thing,” Kristen responded placidly.

Adaine groaned. “Okay, moving on. Riz, you’re going with Fabian, right?”

Riz huffed. He’d been avoiding thinking about that because it made him anxious. Not the idea of going with Fabian – that would be a dream come true. He was anxious about – “Well, I haven’t asked him yet.”

“Get your ass in gear, Riz, you’re running out of time!” Fig reminded him.

“Wait, isn’t he going to ask you? Like, doesn’t the top ask the bottom, usually?” Kristen mused.

“Are you outing yourself as a bottom, Kristen?” Fig snickered.

“I’m a switch, actually,” Kristen told her proudly.

Riz scoffed. “Um, why would you assume that I’m a bottom? I could be a top, you know.”

Kristen scoffed louder. “Yeah, I’ll believe that when I see it!”

“Let the record show that I do not want to see it,” Adaine said.

Riz sighed deeply and spun around in his swivel chair. He felt like he needed a blanket. “Hang on, guys, I’m gonna go get a blanket.”

Unfortunately he hadn’t brought any soft blankets to his office, but Fabian had left a sweater behind at some point that was oversized on him so it was practically a blanket to Riz. He wrapped himself snugly in it and immediately felt twenty-seven percent safer and less anxious, but it also smelled like Fabian, which reminded him acutely of the situation at hand.

When he picked up his crystal again, his friends had moved on to discussing the girl Fig was seeing. “Do you think it would be too soon to ask her to the dance? Like, do you think that would be too much of a… move?”

“On the contrary, I think it might take your relationship up a notch,” Adaine suggested.

“I agree,” Kristen said.

“Yeah, it would show her that you’re really into her,” Riz added. He pulled his hood over his head, and then the sweater-blanket over the hood so he was enveloped to the maximum degree.

“Oh, hey, Riz, you’re back!” exclaimed Fig. “Let’s go back to talking about your thing instead of my thing. Please?”

Riz bit his lip apprehensively. “Actually, can we continue talking about your thing? That sounds like a rich vein.”

“No, let’s talk about Riz’s thing, and then we can wrap it up and move onto Fig’s thing, and then I have another thing I wanna talk about,” said Kristen.

“Can we just talk about your thing then?” Fig and Riz chorused in near-perfect unison.

“Okay, I’m fine with that, because it’s a bit time-sensitive, actually – so like, this soap I bought has been giving me the weirdest rash –”

“I vote that we don’t talk about Kristen’s thing,” Adaine interrupted.

“Seconded,” said Riz, taking a swallow of tea.

“Yeah, I’ve changed my mind, sorry babe.”

“Ugggghhh,” Kristen groaned. “Fine, I’ll just talk to Tracker about it then.”

“That’s what girlfriends are for!” Adaine chimed in.

Fig sighed through the phone. “Hopefully I’ll have one soon if I can finesse it right…”

Riz chuckled, curling his knees up onto his chair. “I thought you didn’t want to talk about your thing.”

“Riz! You’re the one who’s clearly being cagey about your thing. Let’s talk about that first.”

“I can’t believe you would call him out like that, Fig. Long-distance high-five,” said Kristen.

“How do you do a long-distance high-five?” Adaine inquired.

“You slap the crystal –” Kristen started to say, interrupted by a cacophonous smacking noise from Fig’s end. “Wait, no, Fig, we have to do it at the same time –”

“Anyway,” Adaine interjected loudly. “Let’s talk about Riz’s love life, shall we?”

“Oh, I’m interested in that,” Fig piped up.

“So are you gonna ask him soon?”

Riz frowned as he stood up to go turn on a lamp. It was starting to get dark outside, and the pounding rain still hadn’t let up. “I thought you said I don’t have to because I’m a bottom.”

“Oh, so you’re admitting you’re a bottom, then?”

Riz stopped walking in the middle of the floor. “…No…”

“Well, what else is he supposed to do? Just sit around on his ass? Screw that! Go get your man, Riz!” Fig yelled. He couldn’t see her, but he somehow knew that she was pumping her fist. He switched on the lamp, filling the room with warm yellow light, and then padded back to his swivel chair.

“Yeah, you better hurry, Riz,” said Kristen. “What if someone else asks him?”

Riz nearly dropped his teacup. “Do you think someone else would?” he asked, anxiety ratcheting back up.

“I don’t think they would – people know he’s dating Riz,” Adaine reasoned.

“He’s really hot though – somebody might try anyway,” Fig mused.

“I don’t think he’s that hot,” Kristen and Adaine chorused in near-perfect unison.

“He’s, like, SUPER hot,” Fig and Riz responded in kind.

Riz nervously spun in his swivel chair, bundling Fabian’s sweater closely around himself so it didn’t get caught on anything. What if someone actually did ask Fabian to Prom? Would Fabian say yes? What if he secretly didn’t particularly want to go with Riz, and that was why he hadn’t brought it up?

The thing was – Riz had made a habit out of prompting Fabian to share his true feelings, because he sensed that Fabian wasn’t used to allowing himself to become vulnerable enough to be hurt and that he worried that a happy relationship might not actually be something he deserved and maybe it was some sort of fluke that he’d found himself in one but eventually, inevitably, the jig would be up, and if he kept his stakes low then he could minimize the damage to his heart. Or rather – if he refrained from openly admitting how high his stakes were, then he could minimize the visible damage to his heart.

Sometimes he wondered if all along he’d just been projecting, not sensing.

“Wait, guys, I have to go right now, sorry,” he said into the crystal as he stood up and grabbed his coat.

“What?!” they all exclaimed (in near-perfect unison).

“Call us tomorrow because we didn’t even get to talk for that long!” Adaine insisted.

Riz affirmed quickly before hanging up, slipping his keys in his pocket, and darting out the door. He had urgent business to attend to.

&

In this daydream (another favorite of Fabian’s), Fabian was a charming and debonair prince who lived in an elegant castle in the mountains, and Riz was one of his dashing knights (the most dashing, in fact). During the day Riz treated him with the courtesy that decorum required but after the sun sank below the horizon he donned a dark cloak and scaled the tower wall to sneak into Fabian’s chambers for intimate midnight trysts, because he secretly found him irresistible and the feeling was mutual. They couldn’t get married, though, because of… reasons. The daydream didn’t exactly have detailed lore. It mainly revolved around passionate candlelit embraces and theatrical romantic speeches delivered under the full moon and visuals of Riz shrugging out of blousy white peasant shirts with a smoldering expression.

Fabian had just gotten out of the shower, and now he was snuggled in bed on a dark, rainy night, treating himself to the prince/knight daydream before falling asleep. Everything was just right: the soft sheets felt wonderful on his bare legs, his new guava shampoo had scented the room with a fruity aroma, his upper body was suitably cushioned by his ever-growing collection of plush throw pillows, and there was even a faint clattering at the window – wait, no. That was supposed to be happening in the daydream, not real life.

He froze as he listened to the quiet sound of someone fumbling with the latch. The window didn’t open. Rain lashed against the panes. He eyed his sword. It was right there on his nightstand… but he was also so cozy right now…

There was a tap on the glass. “Um… can you let me in? Please?” someone said, teeth audibly chattering.

Fabian would recognize that voice anywhere. Tossing cushions off of himself, he hurried to the window and threw it open, revealing a very soaking-wet, very informally-dressed Riz hanging onto the gutter like a squirrel. “The Ball! What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he yelled, reaching out to gather him up and pull him into the room. He deposited his sopping boyfriend on the bedspread and slammed the window shut before spinning around questioningly.

“I was just – oh, you’re wearing your underwear! That’s, um – cool.” Riz cleared his throat awkwardly. Fabian realized how cold he must be and dashed to the ensuite bathroom to get a towel.

Fabian tried to use the towel to dry off Riz’s coat, but it occurred to him that that was probably a futile effort. “Here, just – take off your clothes and dry off, and then you can get in bed to warm up. I have an enchanted blanket.”

Riz grinned shyly, blinking lingering raindrops out of his eyes. “Wow, I mean… if you wanted me to take off my clothes and get in your bed, you could’ve just asked.”

“I literally am asking,” Fabian replied irritably as he unzipped Riz’s coat. Then it hit him and his face flushed with heat. “Oh – I didn’t mean it like that. Unless you – is that the reason you’re here? Or – what are you doing here? Not that I’m not happy to see you – I mean –”

Riz seemed to take pity on him and sighed, pulling his hoodie over his head. Fabian didn’t stare at his bare chest because he was a gentleman. (He stared a little bit.) (Maybe more than a little bit.)

“I’ll tell you why I’m here – let me just hang up my clothes real quick, though,” Riz said, climbing off of the bed and stepping out of his sweatpants. Fabian did not stare at his butt. (He actually stared at it a lot.) (Although it was partially because he was wearing really cute boxers with little magnifying glasses on them.)

After hanging his clothes on the edge of the bathtub and drying himself off with the towel, Riz rejoined Fabian at the side of the bed and Fabian lifted the covers for him to climb under. Riz happily obliged. He was still kind of cold to the touch and his hair was damp, but Fabian was too distracted by the skin-to-skin contact to care very much.

Now that he was snuggled in his bed just as he’d been before, but this time with the real Riz pressed up against his side, Fabian wondered at how much of a coincidence it was that he’d been imagining Riz climbing to his window and then, at that exact moment in the real world, Riz had climbed to his window. Was this what manifesting was? Did he have magic powers? He opened his mouth to ask Riz if he thought it was likely that Fabian might be a sorcerer but before he could say anything, Riz blurted out, “Will you go to Prom with me?”

It took Fabian a moment to process this. “What?” he asked dumbly.

Riz exhaled through his nose, closing his eyes. He looked nervous, which made Fabian unhappy because he couldn’t understand why. Were there not enough blankets? Cathilda might have more folded in the hall closet. Maybe he should go check.

“I came here to ask you to Prom – I’m sorry I didn’t get any flowers; I wanted to but all the places were closed and I thought about picking some from the ground but I figured you wouldn’t want… common outdoor flowers,” Riz said quietly, staring at his hands as he twisted the edge of Fabian’s flannel sheet. He glanced up at Fabian through his eyelashes. “What do you say?”

Fabian couldn’t believe this was happening. He sighed melodramatically. “The Ball, I can’t believe you’re doing this right now! I was going to ask YOU! And then you just HAD to go jumping the gun like this –”

“Ohhh, that’s what Kristen was – never mind. Well, I didn’t know for sure that you were going to ask me, and I was worried that someone else might ask you first, and so I just had to –”

This was really too much. Fabian sat up straight in order to properly glare at him. “What the absolute fuck are you even talking about, The Ball? Are you trying to tell me that you – did you seriously think I might go with someone else besides you?”

Riz grabbed one of the throw pillows and covered his face with it in answer. Fabian impatiently took it out of his hands and tossed it across the room (knocking over a bloodrush trophy). “Obviously we’re going to Prom together, The Ball! We’re dating! And even if we weren’t dating, I’d still want to go with you, because, well…”

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Riz watched him, green-gold eyes wide. “Because you’re the best person I know – the kindest, and the smartest, and the bravest, and the cutest, and I have the most fun with you, and I feel the most like myself around you, and I guess – I really couldn’t ask for anything better than that. I’m just lucky I know you.” He made himself maintain eye contact even though he desperately wanted to sprint into another room. “And I’m not embarrassed to say that. It’s just – true. And I’m sorry I haven’t made that more clear, I suppose.”

Riz’s face slowly melted into a smile, which made Fabian’s heartbeat switch into a new time signature, just like it always did. His eyes looked a little misty, although that may have just been the rain. “I think the same about you.”

Fabian reclined back against the pillows, lying on his side to face Riz. He scoffed good-naturedly. “Really, The Ball? That’s all you’ve got?”

Riz laughed lightly and swatted his shoulder. “Just listen to me, okay? You’re my dream come true. And I think sometimes I get so caught up in thinking about how much I – how great you are, that I feel like I have to keep chasing after you, when all along, you’re just right there next to me, not even moving.”

Fabian kissed him, because he couldn’t not kiss him after that. Riz beamed up at him as he leaned away and Fabian felt like he was glowing. Or maybe Riz was glowing. They were both probably glowing.

“I’m sorry I didn’t ask you to Prom yet. I was going to do something really romantic, you know. Truly earth-shattering.”

Riz kissed him on the cheek. “Oh, I’m sure. I don’t think I need that, though. Just knowing that we’re going together is earth-shattering enough.”

Fabian kissed him again, pulling him onto his lap. “Just so you know,” he murmured. “I’d be okay with common outdoor flowers. If they were from you.”

Cupping Fabian’s face in his hands, Riz laughed and rested his forehead on Fabian’s. “I’ll keep that in mind for the future.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and we said morosexual rights
> 
> chapter 3 is prom babey! See you sometime w/in the next couple weeks


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok lmao so I know I said that chapter 3 was going to be prom but then I realized that if I put all of prom in one chapter, it would be ridiculously long so I split it up! enjoy <3

Kristen’s Fantasy Sleater-Kinney record crooned in the background as Riz sat on Fig’s bathroom counter, kicking his heels to the beat against her medicine cabinet. There were two unread messages on his crystal. One of them was from Sklonda Gukgak. It read: ‘Kiddo, you look so handsome in your dad’s shirt. Hope it fits okay. Have a great night. Love you. Don’t get in trouble goddammit. Love Mom.’

He smiled to himself and sent back a quick heart symbol. The shirt was a little loose in the shoulders, but his blazer evened it out well enough. Riz did not actually own a suit, and instead of buying one he’d cobbled together an approximation out of various rarely-used wardrobe items from his home (enlisting the help of Fig and Kristen, who were sapphic teens and therefore natural experts at cobbling together an approximation of a suit out of various rarely-used wardrobe items from one’s home).

After hours of rummaging, comparing, and re-rummaging, they’d assembled an outfit out of high-waisted black slacks (courtesy of middle school magical marching band), a silver-gray blazer (which his mom had bought for formal work events but never got around to returning after realizing it didn’t fit her), black-and-white saddle shoes and a bottle-green bowtie from his own collection, and the pièce de résistance: a vintage shirt of his dad’s that his mom had found in an old chest in the hall closet. It was silky and shimmery with a sort of subtle embroidered Florentine pattern that only showed up when light reflected off of it, and small, tasteful ruffles running down the center – ruffles were so hard to pull off but this shirt really nailed it. It was a shade of sea green that was beautiful on its own, but especially remarkable for the way it so perfectly offset the precise hue of Riz’s skin and made his complexion glow from within like stained glass on a sunny day.

Riz figured his dad must have chosen the color for that reason – he could tell from photos that the two of them shared a nearly identical skin tone. A lot of his dad’s clothes had likely been carefully selected, thoughtfully paired with other items, tailored to fit. Pok Gukgak had been a fashionable guy. He had also been debonair and handsome as all hell. Wearing the shirt made Riz feel just a degree or two closer to that level of debonair handsomeness, but more than that, it felt like a little finishing touch from his dad. A glimpse of a universe in which his dad had seen him off to Prom after showing him how to dance in the living room and giving him advice on how to style his hair.

Instead, Fig, Kristen, Tracker, Adaine, and Gorgug had given him advice on how to style his hair over the past forty-five minutes in front of Fig’s bathroom mirror, and their suggestions were all different types of bananas.

(Riz still loved it, though. And he loved them, too.)

“Riz, do you want any makeup?” Fig asked, turning to him as she popped open the lid to her eyeshadow palette. She’d just finished giving herself wickedly dark cat eyes, edged with glitter that matched the blood red of her backless jumpsuit.

He bit his lip nervously. “Um… I’ve never worn any before.” It sounded fun, though. Maybe the shirt was instilling him with an adventurous fashion spirit. Or maybe it was just Pok Gukgak’s spirit.

Fig’s face lit up. Kristen started chanting “Make-o-ver! Make-o-ver!” from her seat on the edge of the bathtub where Adaine, wearing a sequin-accented peach flapper dress from Fig’s closet, was in the process of weaving her ginger hair into some sort of elaborate sideswept elven braid.

Gorgug popped his head into the room. “Can I have a makeover too? When you’re done?”

“Yeah, but ONLY when I’m done, and then Adaine's after Riz” Fig told him bossily. “Yo, Tracker! What about you?”

“Nah!” Tracker yelled from the living room. She and Gorgug were watching pro bloodrush on crystalvision because, unlike everyone else, they’d arrived fully dressed with their hair already done. Adaine and Riz had congratulated them on saving some time while Fig and Kristen shamed them relentlessly for being ‘no fun’.

Fig shrugged, hollering, “Suit yourself!”

“I did,” Tracker called back distantly.

“Actually, I was the one who suited her. Or I helped, anyway,” Kristen informed them all, smugly adjusting her blue silk tie as Adaine silently pretended to retch from behind her.

Fig spun to face Riz, fondly rolling her eyes. “Okay, so for you I’m thinking maybe a subtle smoky eye to really enhance those gigantic peepers of yours. And then maybe some highlighter to enhance that amazing natural bone structure. And then just because it’s Prom, I’m envisioning a sparkly silver liner for you. It’ll counterbalance the pop of white in your shoes and it’ll also be just a little crazy and fun and sexy and give you a bit of an arcanotechno vibe. What do you think?”

Riz just nodded blankly. He didn’t understand most of those terms, but he trusted Fig. Generally. Most of the time. In certain contexts.

Several minutes later, she finished by dabbing some tingly balm on his lips and then set down her brushes and grinned at him, rummaging in her purse for a hand mirror. “Just wait til you see what you look like, you beautiful fucking bastard.”

When he saw his reflection, his breath caught.

He looked mostly the same as ever, but just – with his brightest features shining a little more. His cheekbones were a little more elegant, his lips a little smoother, his eyes a little larger and rounder and more… arresting.

The eyeliner, especially, was… something. Riz had never worn anything sparkly on his face before. It made him feel like – not a different person, per se, but a wilder, more vibrant and charismatic version of himself. Someone who sparkled externally. Someone whose external sparkle was indicative of their internal sparkle. Or maybe he’d had some internal sparkle all along, and the external sparkle just made it more obvious. He couldn’t help but smile.

Fig whooped. “Everybody take a look at The Ball!”

Adaine and Kristen stopped what they were doing to stare. Tracker and Gorgug appeared in the doorway. They were all quiet.

Riz’s smile faltered. “Why is… nobody saying anything?”

“They’re all stunned speechless,” Fig told him proudly. “Hey, I deserve partial credit for this, you know!”

“I think Riz deserves a lot of the credit,” Gorgug said, leaning against the doorframe.

“Yeah, you look, like, SO good, dude,” Adaine said, voice awestruck. The others nodded in agreement. Riz’s face warmed and he felt himself beaming again, unable to prevent it.

“Fabian is gonna TOTALLY lose his shit,” Kristen pronounced gravely. “Like, he might actually literally lose his shit.”

Adaine made a face, swatting her shoulder. “Ew, Kristen! There’s no need to be crass.”

“There are much crasser things I could’ve said,” Kristen muttered, winking at Tracker. Tracker winked back. Adaine stuck her tongue out at both of them.

Fig clapped her hands impatiently. “All right, clear out! It’s Adaine’s turn!”

“Wait, I’m not done with Kristen’s hair –” Adaine began.

“Okay, but hurry up –”

“Babe, are you sure these colors match? I feel like mine is more, like, purpley than yours –” Tracker said worriedly, holding her tie up next to Kristen’s.

Kristen frowned as Adaine wove another strand of hair away from her face. “What are you talking about? They’re definitely both green.”

“No, babe, they’re blue – are you sure you’re not colorblind? I know we’ve talked about this before –”

Riz hopped off the counter and wandered into the living room, where Gorgug had already settled in on the sofa. Remembering the other unread message on his crystal, Riz slid open the notification to read: ‘Everything going ok TB? See u soon xx.’

Riz chuckled to himself. TB was Fabian’s affectionate text nickname for him. (He’d asked him on several occasions if it had any connection to the T.B.-monogrammed briefcase he’d anonymously gifted him in freshman year, but Fabian changed the subject immediately every time.)

He typed back (without bothering to encrypt): ‘Going great. Excited for u to see how good I look right now xx.’

He quickly slipped his crystal in his pocket, heart pounding wildly. Over the past couple of weeks he’d been trying to spend less Relationship Energy solely thinking about Fabian and instead devoting a bit more towards thinking about himself (in relation to Fabian). And part of that meant sometimes… being cocky. Which did not come naturally to him, by any means. But it was certainly a rush, especially because it seemed to fluster Fabian to no end every time. He could dish it out literally all day, every single day of his entire life, but he apparently couldn’t take it.

Riz perched on the arm of the sofa, peering down at Gorgug’s head. “Aren’t you worried about messing up your hair?”

Gorgug shrugged. “It’s probably just gonna get messed up from dancing, anyway.”

That reminded Riz… “I don’t think I know how to dance.”

“Don’t worry, it’s not that hard. You just, like, move your body to the rhythm of the song, and let the music flow through you, and do what comes naturally. You know?”

Riz bit his lip nervously. He didn’t think he knew. He stopped biting his lip because he didn’t want to rub off Fig’s fancy lip balm.

“And then during the slow songs,” Gorgug continued. “You just, like, stand really close to the other person and put your arms around them like you’re gonna kiss them, but you don’t kiss them – instead you just, kind of, sway back and forth to the beat. And then at the end you can kiss. If you want.”

Riz fiddled with his bowtie. “Will you show me? I’m worried I’m gonna get it wrong. Somehow.”

Gorgug craned his neck to frown up at him. “Are you sure? I feel like Zelda would like, not be that happy if we kissed, even if it’s just for practice. And Fabian would probably beat me up, and I don’t know if I could take him.”

Riz sighed. “No, not the – not the kissing. I know how to do that. I was talking about dancing.”

“Oh, okay. Do you think Fabian would beat me up for dancing with you?”

“If he does, I’ll break up with him.”

“Really?”

“No. Because I don’t think he’s going to do that in the first place.”

“All right, I believe you, I guess.”

Gorgug sat up, swinging his legs over as Riz slid off the sofa and stood awkwardly in front of him, hands in his pockets.

“Here, let me just –” Gorgug shoved the coffee table over to one side so they had a clear carpet to work with. Then he approached Riz and appraised him thoughtfully. “Normally the taller person, like, reaches down and puts their hands on the shorter person’s waist, and the smaller person puts their hands on their shoulders and looks up at them. But I don’t think I can even reach your waist unless I, like, lift you up or something.”

“Just do it the reverse way, then. I’ll put my hands on your waist and you put yours on my shoulders.”

Gorgug shrugged. “Okay.” He gingerly placed his hands on Riz’s shoulders and Riz held onto his midsection, and Gorgug guided him as they slowly swayed. ‘Magical Modern Girl’ playing from another room above the faint sounds of pro bloodrush didn’t exactly make for a dreamy slow song, but Riz found himself not really minding. It was nice in its own way. And Gorgug was tall and strong and his aftershave smelled like lilacs.

Gorgug had been right. Slow dancing was not difficult at all. He let the song finish out, though, because dancing with Gorgug was actually kind of fun. Well, maybe dancing in general was fun, and Gorgug was a good friend to do it with. And the music was really growing on him. Maybe he’d ask Kristen to make him a playlist.

“Whatcha guys doin’ in here?” Tracker asked as she entered the room, shrugging off her suit jacket and depositing it on the sofa.

“I’m teaching Riz how to slow dance.”

Tracker laughed. “You don’t need to learn how to slow dance! It’s easy.”

“I just wanted to make sure,” Riz said, miffed.

Tracker stared at him, her brown eyes glinting in an oddly knowing way. He avoided her gaze and looked at his shoes, noticing that the laces were tied slightly unevenly on the left one.

“You don’t need to worry about impressing Fabian, you know. He’s, like, pathetically into you. He literally never shuts up about you. He’s probably gonna be so excited about getting to put his hands on your waist that he won’t even notice if you’re actually dancing.”

Riz chuckled disbelievingly. “We’ve been dating for eight months –”

Tracker smirked and folded her arms, shifting her weight to one side. “You think that matters? If anything, I feel like he’s gotten more smitten month by month. Listen –” She leaned down conspiratorially. Gorgug leaned in to hear better. “I’ve been dating Kristen for, like, fucking forever, and I still get butterflies when she kisses me. When I get a text from her I’m still like, ‘Oh my god, a cute girl texted me?!’”

Gorgug nodded in understanding. “When Zelda comes up and talks to me in the hallway, I’m still like, ‘Whoa, she thinks I’m cool?’”

“Yeah. So trust me. You’re gonna be fine. But I can still show you some cool dance moves if you want. Not a lot of people know this but lesbians are actually the best dancers.”

“Really?” Gorgug asked, awestruck.

Tracker stood up and rolled her shoulders. “Definitely. We have some time while the girls are getting ready. Let’s do this.” She pulled her crystal out of her pocket, winking. “We also have the best music. We lesbians, I mean. I’m just giving you guys a glimpse into this amazing world of good music and dancing.”

They danced in the living room to ‘Magically Closer’ by Fantasy Tegan and Sara. And then they danced to ‘Hit the Magical Back’ by Fantasy King Princess. And then they danced to ‘Magically Curious’ by Fantasy Hayley Kiyoko.

At first Riz was self-conscious, but as he watched Tracker and Gorgug moving their bodies freely, laughing open-mouthed at themselves and each other, swinging their hips and waving their arms and stepping side to side with the occasional spin, he surrendered to their energy and let himself join in. And it was fun, he realized. To just… move, and not pay attention to whether he was moving correctly. And he looked good right now, and he knew it, and he was wearing glittery eyeliner and his dad’s stylish shirt, and maybe tonight he, too, was debonair and handsome as all hell and wild and vibrant and charismatic. Sparkling.

“Isn’t this song, like, problematic?” Riz asked over the music as they jammed out to ‘I Kissed a Magical Girl’.

Tracker shrugged. Which – it was kind of impressive that she managed to effectively do that while dancing. “Kind of? But we kind of, like, reclaimed it, I guess? And it’s just a fun song to dance to, don’t overthink it.”

Eventually their friends finished up in the bathroom, and Tracker also warned them that they should probably stop so they could conserve dancing energy for Prom itself.

Riz felt much more prepared, though. And even more confident than before. Which had already been pretty confident – now electricity hummed in his veins.

While they waited for Fabian to show up so they could pile into Gorgug’s van and head to the school to meet Zelda, Ragh and his date, and Fig’s date, they raided Fig’s rock star jewelry collection to find some accessory pieces. (Riz forwent the chains and ear studs and ostentatious rings that Fig and Kristen bling’d themselves up with, but he did find a cute pair of silver cufflinks shaped like tiny revolvers.)

Finally, the doorbell rang and everybody rushed downstairs.

Riz walked a little bit more slowly. He felt like his heart was about to burst out of his ribcage.

Descending the staircase, he noticed Fabian before Fabian noticed him. And thank all the gods out there for that, because now he had a moment to compose himself and make sure he didn’t just babble nonsensically as soon as he opened his mouth. Fabian was the most beautiful man Riz had ever seen, no matter what he was wearing or what state his hair was in (as much as Fabian insisted that he always needed to style it a specific way). His hair was a little more gelled up than usual tonight, with one roguish curl falling effortlessly over his forehead. It even looked like his eyepatch was made of some kind of fancier, silkier material than his typical eyepatch. But the main thing… well, Riz was gay and just like most gay people, he was weak for a beautiful person in a suit. And holy god… could Fabian rock a suit.

“Where’s The Ball? I have a boutonnière for him,” Fabian boomed impatiently, waving around what looked like a very tiny, very fancy bouquet in a glass box. Was Riz supposed to have one of those for Fabian? He really hoped not. He wished someone had explained the rich-and-fancy-person Prom Rules to him ahead of time.

“Are you late because you were getting that? I thought that kind of stuff was only for straight people,” Kristen commented, resting her elbow on Tracker’s shoulder.

“‘This kind of stuff’ is for everyone with class, Kristen,” Fabian told her archly.

“What’s a… buccaneer?” Riz asked from halfway down the stairs, hoping he was pronouncing it correctly. No, on second thought, he definitely wasn’t. A buccaneer was a pirate thing, he was pretty sure. Then again, maybe that WAS what Fabian had said.

As Fabian wheeled to look at him, his face moved like he’d been about to say something but was rapidly forgetting what it was. Instead, his mouth fell slack and he made a weird gurgling noise. Kristen snickered and punched him in the bicep.

Riz grinned and hoisted himself onto the bannister to slide down side-saddle. Reflexively Fabian stepped forward to catch him as he landed.

For a moment they just stayed like that – Fabian with his arms around Riz, Riz staring up into the stupidly handsome visage of his stupid, handsome boyfriend. Fabian cleared his throat gently. “Um… will you go out with me?”

Riz frowned in confusion. “I’m already going out with you. Dumbass.”

“Okay, but you look so… incredible right now, I just had to ask again to make sure that was like, still a thing that’s happening. Like, me going out with… you.”

Riz laughed and rested his forehead against Fabian’s chest. “All right, that was, like, a decent line.”

“It wasn’t a line, I was being earnest, The Ball, God,” Fabian remarked irritably, even as he gently ran a hand down Riz’s spine to the small of his back.

Riz tilted his face up to smile at him, and then reached to cup his cheek with one hand. Fabian smirked and leaned down for a kiss, holding him at the waist to dip him. Riz’s heart did, in fact, burst out of his ribcage. He didn’t even care that the glass box in Fabian’s hand was digging into his side a little. Fig wolf-whistled and everybody else cheered. As they pulled apart, Riz started laughing again when he saw Kristen dipping Tracker a few feet away.

“I think she went lower than you, Fabian!” Fig yelled gleefully, pointing as Kristen triumphantly pulled her girlfriend back to her feet.

“You’re not accounting for how I’m taller than her,” Fabian pouted.

“Yeah, but mine is bigger than yours. My partner is bigger than your partner, I mean,” Kristen smirked. Fabian just glared at her as Riz and Tracker both doubled over laughing.

“Aren’t you guys supposed to wait until the actual dance to kiss?” Adaine asked. “Speaking of which, are we going to the dance right now or not?”

“Yeah, let’s go. I gotta get my kisses in, too,” Gorgug said.

“Shotgun!” Fig yelled, dashing to the front door (only wobbling slightly on her higher-heeled-than-usual combat boots).

As they followed their friends, Fabian fumblingly opened the glass box and pinned the tiny little bouquet (which was essentially just a white rosebud with some leafy accents) to Riz's lapel. “I’m sorry I didn’t get you one of these,” Riz said ruefully, examining it. It smelled nice.

Fabian flapped his hand. “I don’t care about that. I’m mad you didn’t tell me what color you were wearing, though. Now our outfits don’t match!” He held his tie next to Riz’s shirt. It was also light green, interestingly enough, but much more of a yellowy pear color than an oceanic one. “I spent forever trying to find one that would complement your eye color, and then you just HAD to go and wear turquoise and not even mention –”

“Oh, honestly,” Adaine interjected, rolling her eyes. She stepped between them and cast minor illusion on Fabian’s tie so that it appeared to have been made from the exact same fabric as Riz’s shirt.

“Thanks, Adaine,” Riz beamed at her. “You look fantastic, by the way.”

Adaine smiled shyly, curtsying. She really did look fantastic. Fig had helped her pin her hair into a loose roll at the back of her head with some soft wavy strands framing her face, and her cheekbones were dusted with a touch of silver glitter that matched her mary jane shoes.

Outside it was a warm almost-June night, and the stars were just beginning to appear above the darkened treetops.

“You were right,” Fabian whispered as they walked down the garden path towards the van, their friends chattering excitedly around them.

Riz glanced up at him. “About what?”

“About how good you look right now. I wasn’t prepared. Emotionally.”

Riz rolled his eyes. “Finally, you get a taste of how I feel every time I see you. Bastard.”

“You’re the bastard,” Fabian murmured.

He took Riz’s hand and squeezed it. Riz squeezed back.

Tonight was going to be a good night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Riz's suit-making process is entirely inspired by my experience as a lesbian teen making butch formal outfits out of whatever I could find in my closet ("teen" I say, knowing full well that I do this at age 21)
> 
> Thanks for reading! See you soon!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know that song that you, personally, think they should slow dance to? That's the song they're slow dancing to.
> 
> Sorry it took forever to post this! Life has been a little wild lately because I'm in the midst of suddenly evacuating back to the country where I have citizenship (due to global events that I'm sure you're aware of). I hope some fluff will take your (and my) mind off things though. Enjoy!

Tonight was a good night.

After taking the obligatory group photos and couple shots in front of a wall of tinsel and foam stars and then promptly gorging themselves on refreshments as if they were enjoying their final meal, the Bad Kids had taken the dance floor by storm, quickly alienating everyone around them with their intimidating dance moves. Okay, it was less about their intimidating dance moves and more about the fact that Fig had smuggled a bottle of glitter into her pocket and felt moved to haphazardly shower handfuls of it onto anyone who came near. And also… Ragh seemed to think that dancing was just slightly more artful kickboxing. And Fig’s date, Ayda, had massive fiery wings. Those were all probably part of it.

Fabian had spent most of the night dancing interpretively in a way that showed off the graceful muscular motion of his body (leaving Riz to dance with Adaine) but now it was the slow song portion of the evening, with the lights shifting to dim blues and purples and rose pinks, the orcish band onstage altering their set to tranquil, undulating romantic numbers.

Because of their height difference, it was more convenient for Riz to put his hands on Fabian’s midsection while Fabian loosely touched his shoulders. Riz had suggested this idea immediately when he noticed that Fabian was having trouble figuring out how to hold his waist while still standing upright; he wondered if Riz had previous experience slow dancing. If he did, Fabian was determined to outperform all of his previous memories.

“Have you ever slow danced before?” he asked.

Riz hummed questioningly. They were dancing close enough that Riz’s face was mostly snuggled against Fabian’s chest, which was probably good for Fabian’s concentration because otherwise he’d be doing nothing but staring into his eyes. Sometimes when Fabian started talking before making eye contact with Riz, he lost track of what he was saying and just kind of trailed off into inarticulate sounds. It was truly embarrassing.

“You just seem good at it, is all,” Fabian said.

Riz’s shoulders shook as he giggled slightly. “Do you really think so? Gorgug showed me how to do it before you came over.”

Fabian glanced over at Gorgug, who was swaying slowly several feet away with Zelda in his arms. “Oh. That’s nice of him.”

Part of him felt slightly miffed that he hadn’t been Riz’s first slow dance, but he also felt peeved at himself for even having that feeling in the first place, because that was a silly thing to feel. Riz was his date. And his boyfriend. What did it matter?

Riz removed a hand from his waist to poke him in the stomach. “What?”

Fabian frowned down at him. “What, what?”

Riz smiled slightly as blue light rotated across his face, washing his eye makeup in sparkling celestine. That eyeliner. Fabian didn’t think he’d ever get over this particular look. “I can tell you’re thinking something right now. Or feeling it. Whatever.”

Fabian didn’t want to say it because he was embarrassed. And then he remembered telling the truth mattered more than being embarrassed, and nothing was embarrassing around his boyfriend, anyway. Riz had witnessed him doing all sorts of embarrassing things, including failing to make the bloodrush team in freshman year, and beefing it while trying to do a flip off a table, and that time he got scammed into downloading crystal-software that turned all of his text messages into emo punk song lyrics for about three weeks (he still wasn’t totally convinced that Fig hadn’t been behind that one but she refused to confess).

And after all of that, Riz still wanted to date him, right? Of course, there was the risk that eventually he would say something so embarrassing that it would cross a line and Riz would finally move on to some cooler guy. (Although Fabian couldn’t think of anyone their age who was cooler than him).

But in his experience, it generally made Riz happy when he said what was on his mind. And he wanted to make Riz happy.

He sighed. “I guess I just kind of wish that I was your first slow dance.”

Riz laughed. “Really? Why?”

Now that was a frustrating question, because even Fabian didn’t know the answer. He thought about it as they slowly spun in a circle. “I think I just wanna be… special. To you.”

Riz tilted his neck back to stare incredulously at him. “But you ARE special to me! How could you not understand that?”

“I do understand that! But I guess I don’t always… understand-understand it.”

“Well, we’re dating, first of all,” Riz huffed. “But you’re also my best friend. And even if we weren’t best friends, I’d still admire you –”

“Because of how attractive I am?”

“No! Conceited much?” He affectionately pinched Fabian’s side. “Well, I mean, yes. But that’s not really the point I’m making right now. I mean, you already know that you’re attractive and everybody admires you because of that.”

Fabian nodded. “Yes, of course. Go on.”

“But I also admire you because you’re strong –”

“I do have great muscles –”

“No – well, yes, but again, that’s not the point I’m making. Just listen!”

Fabian shut his mouth so Riz could continue complimenting him.

“I meant strong in your heart. You've withstood a lot of shit. Like, not just withstood it – grown out of it. I think you’ve changed a lot over time. Like, I already loved the person you were in freshman year, and now you’ve just become a brighter, more powerful version of that person, and it’s because of everything that’s happened since then, and how you’ve handled it and transformed it into strength and wisdom instead of letting it destroy you. So imagine how I feel now.”

Fabian was still processing the beginning of what Riz said. “You – what? You lo – me? You –”

Riz’s eyes widened. “Oh shit, I didn’t mean – Well, I did, actually.” He sighed heavily. “I love you. Is that okay?”

Fabian’s heart turned inside out. “Um. Yes. That is. Okay.”

He wrapped his arms tightly around Riz and buried his nose in his green hair. He could feel Riz smiling against his chest. It occurred to him that no one had actually said those words to him since his father’s passing, and he hadn’t realized how badly he needed to hear it.

Especially from someone that he also – well.

“I… love you, too,” he murmured into Riz’s curls. Riz held more snugly onto the small of his back and nuzzled into his chest.

And then he was hearing a Message in his ear. “Get a room, you two!” said Fig’s voice.

Fabian whipped his head around. There were Gorgug and Zelda, Ragh and his tiefling date, Kristen and Tracker heavily making out on the dance floor, Adaine eating canapes and chatting with Penny Luckstone – Fig and Ayda were nowhere to be seen.

“We’re on the roof, dumbass,” Fig’s voice continued. “But we can see you through the window. Get your kisses in!”

“Get yours in!” Fabian snapped, although he was sure she was already on top of it.

Riz looked up at him confusion. “What?”

Fabian smiled at him. He felt like he was glowing again, but brighter and more fiery this time. “Nothing. Wanna kiss?”

They kissed. And it was about as good as all their other kisses. Which was to say, excellent.

Fabian was at Prom. And he was in love. High school life didn’t get much better than this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I don't currently have any other d20 fics planned but I may return to writing for this fandom in the future! Feel free to check out the other d20 fics I've posted (and my fics for other fandoms if you're interested). Hope you have a wonderful day, and take care of yourself <

**Author's Note:**

> I am planning on completing all 3 of my in-progress fics (including this one) by the end of March! This one will probably be finished sooner rather than later because it's the shortest. You can likely expect Chapter 2 within the next couple weeks! See you then! Thank you for reading <3


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